Human Conditioning
Page 29
She was becoming more the strong, independent young lady nowadays, and not one to take help or sympathy well. She rarely needed looking after. Her husband’s absences had seen to that. Even through her difficult pregnancy, she hadn’t once complained about being left alone so often. She understood that Aiden worked hard, that he had massive responsibilities outside of the home. She missed him immensely, but she had learned to enjoy her own space too, and having a man constantly under her feet was not her idea of bliss. Yes, their relationship had turned out pretty perfect as far as she was concerned.
She only shopped for half an hour. As she lowered the third and last plastic bag into the trolley and paid with Aiden’s credit card, she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see who it was. “Alright, Mrs Foster!”
Adam Draper was grinning down at her, his friendly brown eyes twinkling with surprise and intrigue. Lily had met Adam at the wedding but she hadn’t seen him since. “Let me get those…” he said, clutching all three shopping bags in his large fists. “What you doing around this neck of the woods?”
“I stayed at Duggie and Vivien’s last night.”
Adam’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Rather you than me!” he joked. “I’m managing a job down the road, just popped in for a sarnie! So, Aiden’s about too, is he?” he added, his eyes warily darting around the shop.
Lily wanted to roll her eyes. She had learned from Kate at the wedding that Adam and Aiden had never seen eye to eye, and that Aiden’s misguided protectiveness over Kate was the cause of their ambivalent relationship. “Aiden, in a supermarket?” she replied jovially with a sympathetic smile.
Adam took control of the trolley as Lily slipped her purse back into her bag, and they left together. “What job are you doing?” she enquired conversationally as she waddled out onto the street, rubbing her swollen stomach.
“A leaking roof at a depot round the corner. This is one of my patches…” he replied, but was distracted when Lily stopped walking. “You alright?” he asked nervously.
Pain was crushing Lily’s pelvic bone again and she let out a quiet groan. Adam instantly looked on the verge of panic. Men were useless in these situations. She was in pain and the last thing she needed was Adam making a scene. “I’m alright,” she puffed, resting her hands on her knees. “It’s normal!”
“Is it?”
Lily nodded. The pain was hitting her hard now, but all she could think of was Aiden’s face when he found out she’d gone out. She had been suffering at dinner last night and he’d specifically told her to stay indoors today and let his mother wait on her. She would get a lecture from Vivien too. The thought was a depressing one. Adam was certain to tell Kate, and Kate would be straight on the phone to her brother finding out what the problem was. Kate was extremely excited about being an auntie. This baby was, according to Vivien, all she could talk about lately. Lily took some deep breaths.
“Oh shit!” Adam exclaimed.
“Adam, I said I’m fine!” Lily winced.
“No… it’s Gina…”
Lily glanced up to see Gina Watson approaching them from across the square. She closed her eyes and sighed, then, lifting herself slowly to a standing position, she prepared herself for the inevitable onslaught. She was quite sure Gina hadn’t been told that she was pregnant. According to Vivien, she had kicked up such a stink over her marrying Aiden that no one would dare to mention it to her! Also, Lily had heard that Aiden had warned everyone he knew off the idea of gossiping, in case they were thinking of spreading the word.
It was clear by Adam’s demeanour that Gina was none the wiser, and when she was finally before them and she took in Lily’s large round belly, her eyes widened. She looked a mess – quite the opposite of Lily, who still glowed with elegance and prettiness despite her condition. She had not failed to style her hair and put on make-up and perfume before leaving the flat. Gina, on the other hand, looked as if she hadn’t washed or brushed her hair in days or even removed her make-up from the night before. She had lost a gross amount of weight too, since Lily had last seen her. The denim skirt and grey sweatshirt she was wearing dwarfed her and were stained and crumpled. She seemed to suffer a fit of itchiness and began mindlessly scratching her arms as though this was a common affliction.
For a long moment, there was a deadly silence between them as Gina digested the only possible explanation as to why Lily’s stomach was so swollen. Then her face flushed and she suddenly launched herself at Lily, her nails clawing to get at her face. Adam jumped between them immediately, taking the full force of Gina’s unevenly gnawed nails as they struck his cheek. Adam pushed her away, then, taking her arms, he pulled them around to her back and dragged her away from Lily, who was watching the scene before her in astonishment.
“You fucking bitch!” Gina screamed over and over, kicking her legs in front of her as if trying to get to the little life inside of Lily. “I hope you both die at the fucking birth!”
At that, Lily bent over, crying out as an excruciating pain ran through her pelvis. She saw several figures running towards her with panicked expressions, then everything went dark.
************
Gina awoke sprawled over the couch inside her flat at Kingsland. She had a niggling feeling something had happened earlier that day, but her mind was in such a daze that she couldn’t yet remember. She sat up and realised that she ached all over, but she didn’t question it. She was in a constant state of exhaustion these days.
Taking her little medical kit from the coffee table, she set herself up for another hit, the last one having knocked her out completely. She was just wrapping the belt around her arm when there was a rap at the door. She glanced at the clock on top of the television. It was just after 9pm. She wasn’t expecting her first punter until ten that evening. That she did remember. Forgetting a punter would be more than her life was worth. She ignored the door and continued with the matter in hand. When the door was struck again, she glanced up once more, but again she ignored it, the hunger for another buzz too strong to be distracted by unwanted company.
The next time the door was struck, she wasn’t given the chance to answer. The sound of two swift kicks and the door smashing against the wall was what she heard before Aiden was looming over her with an expression of wild fury. “You cunt!” he bellowed, dragging her from the couch and throwing her across the room as if she were a doll.
She took the full force of the throw, landing hard against the far wall and collapsing onto the floor. The sight of Aiden brought a memory flashing into her panic-stricken mind, of earlier that day – a fight or maybe an argument. Her eyes widened. Lily!
“Aiden, I’m sorry!” she pleaded suddenly, scrambling away from his enormous frame.
Aiden’s handsome face was flushed, his black suit jacket open and flapping about him as he stalked about the room, walking off his temper. His black tie hung loose at the neck of his white shirt, where he’d ripped it from his neck in exasperation.
Gina could feel Aiden’s anger. Like a suffocating fog, it emanated from him and engulfed the room. His pacing ceased and he spun around to face her, his lip curled in disgust and his piercing blue eyes smouldering with revulsion. She caught sight of a black winkle-picker shoe as it swung in the direction of her stomach. The force of the kick ripped through her rib cage, as if he had taken a blade to her skin, and she was certain he had broken her ribs. The second blow confirmed her diagnosis.
“Sorry? You fucking bitch… I’ll give you fucking sorry!” Aiden roared, and dragging her up by a clump of her dark hair, he threw her onto the couch. Gina cried out in pain as she fell hard against her ribs and she hugged herself, moaning.
The room fell silent for what felt like a lifetime. Gina nursed her ribs, too frightened to speak and too frightened to face Aiden, whose presence continued to fill the room with a thick fog of contempt.
He glared at her, revulsion surging through every pore in his body. He wanted to destroy her. He wanted to end her pathetic life. Wh
y had he kept her on all this time? He had argued this point with himself on several occasions in the past, but now he was really scolding himself. After the way she had reacted following his marriage to Lily, he should have just finished her off. She was worth nothing to him but little pieces of paper with the Queen’s head on, and he could get that from any other stupid, self-loathing girl gagging for the life that he made sound so grand. They weren’t hard to find.
He was so angry at himself – for allowing things to have got this far; for allowing this bitch to live long enough to try and destroy what was good and proper in his life – but he was even angrier at Gina, and that didn’t bode well for her. She had finally overstepped the mark as far as he was concerned. It was one thing to swing her fists at him, but to touch his Lily – Aiden’s lip curled at the thought. If anything had happened to Lily or his unborn child, he would not have been able to forgive himself.
Picking up the syringe that lay already prepared on the untidy coffee table, he stepped over to Gina. She cringed at his approach. “What are you doing?” she whimpered, her red-rimmed eyes gazing up at him. He didn’t miss the change in her demeanour as he sat beside her, moving the syringe closer. Suddenly all her fear was lost to the absolute craving for the contents within that syringe. The buzz Gina wanted more than anything in her life was just inches away from her, and her sheer desire for it disgusted and astounded him in equal measure. He would never understand an addict. It just wasn’t his way to allow something to control him the way heroin controlled Gina.
“You’re pathetic, aren’t you, G?” he muttered. Pulling away a touch, he took pleasure in the way she attempted not to lose sight of that blessed syringe. He gazed at her in wonder. “I could do anything to you, couldn’t I? Just as long as you get… your… buzz…”
Gina didn’t answer or move. Her eyes merely flitted between the syringe and his face. She reminded him of a dog watching a treat, eagerly waiting for the time the treat would be given. It made him sick to the stomach to see someone so weak. Yet, in a strange way, he too got a thrill out of seeing Gina like this. She was like a pet of his; someone who relied solely on him to survive. There was some security in that, knowing that she would be there no matter what.
“Make the pain go away…” Gina whimpered, staring up at him with wide, beseeching eyes.
He watched her carefully, once again fascinated by her absolute vulnerability. He raised his hand high into the air, and with one stabbing motion, injected the needle deep into the side of her neck. She cried out, but he wasn’t sure whether it was from pain or relief.
Her blood immediately filled the syringe. Aiden knew that was wrong, and a part of him hoped that he had done her some real harm, yet another seldom-used part of his conscience hoped to God she would be alright.
Gina’s body slowly began to relax, but it wasn’t long before he noticed little red blotches appearing beneath her skin, and soon after her neck began to swell. Gina’s body fell heavier against him and he realised that the situation was serious.
He called Dr Crow.
Chapter thirty-nine
Aiden had been sitting uncomfortably in Frankie’s small white Ford Transit for just under two hours. They had left the urban landscape of London to embark on a journey into the English countryside, yet the tranquillity of rural England didn’t distract Aiden from the fact that his arse was numb and he was bored. Frankie had been wittering on about everything but the job in hand, from the best restaurants in London to places he’d visited outside of the UK – all things that Aiden could not relate to and so had no adequate response with which to form a two-way conversation.
“I’ll take you some day,” Frankie continued as they turned right onto a remote single-lane road cutting through a vast field of crops, which expanded across the whole of their eye line and into the horizon. Frankie glanced at Aiden. “So, what do you think?”
“Sorry, what?”
“Italy… I’ll take you there someday…”
“Yeah, yeah, why not. I think Lily has already been…” he answered absent-mindedly. He hadn’t been listening to a word Frankie had said for the past half an hour or so.
Frankie concentrated on the road, and, to Aiden’s relief, the chatter ended there. A couple of minutes later, Frankie steered to the left and cut off the engine. “We can’t drive in any further. We’ll have to walk.”
Aiden stared out of the windscreen. There was a narrow mud track ahead, which, he assumed, led to Frankie’s factory. He turned to Frankie and announced, “I’m wearing Armani boots!” He was not amused. In fact, he looked positively horror-stricken.
Frankie smirked, wound an arm behind his seat, and pulled out two plastic shopping bags. “Here…”
Aiden stared down at the bags. “You are fucking kidding me? You make millions a month, and you want me to put fucking shopping bags on me feet?”
Rolling his eyes, Frankie threw the bags on Aiden’s lap and got out of the van. Slamming the door shut, he started heading up the track. Aiden pursed his lips and fought down his natural desire to argue. He would get himself some of those Caterpillar boots Frankie was wearing for his subsequent visits, and he’d have to start wearing jeans again. The thought was an unsavoury one. He loved his suits.
He threw the bags on the driver’s seat, got out of the van and followed Frankie up the lane, stepping awkwardly over the pot holes and puddles. When he caught up with him, he saw Frankie glance down at his feet and subtly smirk when he noticed there were no bags attached to them.
Coming to the end of the short track, they approached an iron gate and Aiden acknowledged that they were on a farm. Before them stood an enormous shed of approximately 100 feet in length and 30 feet in width, with a steel roof and wooden slats over all the windows. A chicken shed. It was weather-beaten but stable, and had obviously been out of use for legal trade for quite a while.
Frankie pushed open the gate and finally they were on concrete ground. Heading up the pathway to the right side of the building, Frankie halted at a wooden door at the far end. He knocked twice and announced his presence. Within seconds the door was opened.
“Alright, Ewan? I’ve brought along our new supplies manager.”
Ewan Grady was middle-aged, small and stocky. He had round grey eyes, a shaved head and was casually dressed in faded jeans and a David Bowie t-shirt. “Ewan, this is Aiden. Aiden, this is our production manager, Ewan. You don’t need to worry too much about what he does. Just make sure that what is produced here makes delivery and its revenue makes it back to the safe houses.”
Ewan held out a large hand for Aiden, which Aiden took and shook firmly. Ewan was surveying him with immediate mistrust, but Aiden didn’t take offence. He would do the same to anyone walking off the street into an operation as big as this. Frankie, however, was vexed by his colleague’s aloofness, and turning to Aiden, he said, “Why don’t you step inside and take a look around?”
Aiden understood this to be his cue to leave the two alone, and he did just that. He glanced back to see Frankie taking Ewan aside and it looked as though Ewan was receiving a piece of Frankie’s mind.
Aiden stepped further into the factory. The floor was made of cement, the walls wooden and no lighting, just large lamps placed near the different pieces of machinery strewn around the vast space of the shed. The smell of chemicals and dampness filled his nostrils. Only four other men were present inside and, after a glance in his direction, they got on with their work, unperturbed by his presence.
He walked all the way to the far end of the factory. There was a small office in the left corner, and along the wall to the right of the office was a long plastering table. Upon it sat eight individual cellophane-wrapped blocks of cocaine – which he estimated to be at least two kilos per package – along with numerous pairs of rubber gloves, several small knives, a couple of mixing bowls and two sets of electronic scales. As he walked aside the table, he noticed a large drum at the end filled with what he assumed was more cocaine.
“I’ve heard of it. It’s a painkiller, isn’t it?” Aiden replied.
Ewan stood to his side. “Yeah, it’s mostly used as a dental anaesthetic. We call it ‘magic’.”
Aiden added, “It’s your mixer…”
“Yeah… the cocaine comes to us about 60% pure. Those in the chain before us reduce it down from its 90% purity after import. When we’re done with it, it leaves here at about 2%… Benzocaine’s cheap. We can get it for about £5 a kilo.” He paused then turned, gesturing to a machine in the far corner. “This over here is a metal press.” He walked over to the machine and Aiden followed. “We use this to compact the cut coke into blocks ready for sale. Once that happens, it’s ready for you to hand over for delivery. You’ll need to count the amounts and log it in here.” He pulled out an A4-sized book from a drawer next to the machine and handed it to Aiden. Aiden opened it. It contained a hand-drawn table on each page with columns for a date, time, deliverer name, delivery location and amount in kilos and net cost. Aiden closed the book and handed it back to Ewan.
“It seems pretty self-explanatory,” he said.
Just then Frankie walked over, a wide grin on his face, his dark, crow-like eyes twinkling with excitement. Holding out his arms, he gestured around the building. “So, what do you think?”
“Well, I’ve only seen half of it, but it looks pretty impressive,” Aiden replied. “So, where do you produce the pills?”
Frankie and Aiden left the factory two hours after their arrival. They had talked through the whats, whys, wheres and who’s in Frankie’s office, then Frankie had offered Aiden some of the cocaine that was yet to be cut. Now, the journey home didn’t feel as odious as the journey there. The cocaine was good – the best Aiden had ever had. Even Reggie would have agreed on that front.